Return to A Deliberate Year
Back in the Driveway
About 6 months out of the year, I semi-occupy your typical 3-2 brick house in Georgetown, Texas. A poor thing, but mine own. Or will be, when I cough up another ten grand to the former Bank of Italy.
When I left to go off gallivanting last June, I had a real brainstorm. With an eye to sidestepping catastrophe, I cut off the gas to the hot water heater. Also the water at the street. Sometimes I just amaze myself with brilliance.
When I got home last week, there was every indication the plan worked. The house was still standing, amid the drifting leaves.
But it held secrets. Dark secrets.
Dumps are not usually memorable for me. But apparently, last June, after I cut off the water, I used one of the toilets, and flushed all the water out of the tank. Of course it could not refill. Both bowl and tank were completely dry when I came back.
Hey, no problem. Turn on the water. Flush. Oops.
Nowwaitjustadamminit! Why is water pouring all over the floor? It's inconvenient, at the moment. It seems to be coming out between the tank and bowl. That's cold. Not content with the evidence of my lying eyes, I flushed again. Okay, okay. One more time. Yep.
Consistency is a mother.
And evaporation, like gravity, is not always our friend. Apparently the seal dried out and cracked over the summer. Something more to put on my pre-gallivanting list.
In an attempt to prevent one catastrophe, I create another. Maybe I've discovered another Rule of RVing. Something from the Dark Side. Ever notice that the thing you prepare for is hardly ever the thing that happens?
Accident, you say? Time will tell.
I bought a new seal yesterday, from Home Depot. Today I'm planning to procrastinate with a friend. Not that I need help. I'm pretty good at procrastination, when I get round to it. But tomorrow, if you happen to drop by, you may find me waist deep in toilet innards.
Even bowl movement.
Now I'm not saying it's true, but it could be that, like me, you've occasionally lured yourself into thinking you are clever. King o' de woild. Be warned, gentle friends. All it takes is one wayward dump, and there you are. Back to the status of a stumped chump. A real knuckle dragger.
Anyway, that's the story of how I got dethroned.
I have others.
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